Coming Undone
Page 14
“I didn’t think you were. First, it seems to me you’re the kind of mom who wouldn’t just let her kid go off with anyone she didn’t trust. But also because it seems to me you take care of people. Mrs. Cardini is lonely; she gets just as much out of time spent with Rennie as Rennie does being with her.”
It turned her stomach upside down to hear such praise from him.
“That’s not good mothering, that’s just basic parenting.”
He bent his head, pressing a kiss to her wrist, and she drew in breath. Which didn’t help because it was breath filled with the scent of him. He was so big, took up so much space. She should pull her hand away, should stand and break this contact before he dug into her life any deeper, before this need of him got out of control and she did something stupid.
Instead, she drew her fingertip along the shell of his ear and he shivered.
“I wish it wasn’t full daylight. I wish we were alone,” he murmured as he continued to hold her hand, slowly rocking the swing back and forth as he kept an eye on the street.
She wished it too, but knew wishes were something entirely apart from reality. He was more than she could handle. Even if she wanted, very badly, to handle him. Out of her league.
“School starts soon,” he said, not commenting further on the previous statement.
“Yep. Hard to believe she’s going to be in first grade.” Like every mother, Elise felt as if the years had just flown by. One day she’d brought home a pink bundle from the hospital, and now that baby was outgrowing her shoes every few months and was going to be a first-grader.
She’d have time alone, more than she’d ever had before, even if it would be filled, more often than not, with work. Maybe even some time to sneak in a man here and there. Have some connection to someone that wasn’t about parenting or work.
Admittedly, part of what attracted her so deeply to Brody was being seen as a woman, as a sexual being, by a man to whom she was attracted right back.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you. One taste and I’m jonesing.” He grinned, and it did all sorts of crazy to her belly. And other parts. God, this was dangerous, and so hot it made her want to throw caution to the wind and invite him inside.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it either.” She shrugged. No point in lying about it.
“So, what are we going to do about that?”
Before she could answer, Rennie looked over and saw them. “Momma! Brody! Come over and see the flower bed.”
Well now, that brought the fantasy in her head to a screeching halt. The man would probably run the other way now. She stood, waving back at Rennie. “On my way.”
“I’ll come as well.” Brody stood and they began to walk toward Mrs. Cardini’s.
“Sorry about that.” She laughed.
“Never apologize for being a connected mom. It’s your job. I knew we weren’t going to go at it on your porch in broad daylight.” He winked.
6
Elise bent and stretched, placing her palms flat on the floor. Stretching felt like meditation sometimes. Her body knew it so well, knew the movements, the positions, the limits of her range, she simply fell into the routine, like breathing. As she stretched, warmed up, she pushed away all the things on her to-do list—the new toe shoes she needed to order, the people she needed to call, the squeaky door on one of the lockers she needed to grease. It all fell away.
She put Goldfrapp’s Black Cherry album on and began to move, letting the music take over as she spotted her first pirouette, and round again. Stepping back, she noted the lack of pull in her calves and noted it gladly.
It wasn’t until she’d moved to fouetté en tournant that she noticed him standing in the doorway, watching.
Smiling and pleasantly surprised, she stopped and turned the music off. “Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here. Is everything all right?” They’d left a lot unsaid the last few times they’d seen each other.
Brody cocked his head at her. “Wow. You’re totally amazing. I’ve never seen anything like those twirly things you were doing just now.”
Pride warmed her. She’d worked hard to get where she’d been before the whole thing with Ken. Most of her life had been spent in ballet class; she never regretted that time and dedication like some others had. She loved dancing and missed it a great deal, but this new stage wasn’t all that bad. The feedback was nice, she had to admit.
“Thank you. That’s called fouetté en tournant. Ballet moves are French so they sound awesome and graceful. Fouetté means ‘whipped,’ by the way.” She laughed. “It’s the whipping motion of the leg that propels the body into the turn.”
“Ah, makes sense then. It sounds—and looks—pretty complicated. Speaking of looking pretty complicated, I looked around when I first got here. When you said you’d danced for the National Ballet Theatre, I hadn’t guessed what that meant. Not really. You weren’t a dancer there, you were the dancer there. I’m incredibly impressed.”
A hated blush heated her cheeks. “Not the dancer. I was a principal dancer. There were two other female principals when I was with the NBT. I worked my way up over the years.”
“Do you miss it?”
She paused. “Sometimes more than I want to. Brody, not that I’m unhappy to see you. I mean, look at yourself. Any woman with eyes would be happy to look up and get a load of Brody Brown standing in her doorway. But, why are you here?”
It turned her stomach upside down to hear such praise from him.
“That’s not good mothering, that’s just basic parenting.”
He bent his head, pressing a kiss to her wrist, and she drew in breath. Which didn’t help because it was breath filled with the scent of him. He was so big, took up so much space. She should pull her hand away, should stand and break this contact before he dug into her life any deeper, before this need of him got out of control and she did something stupid.
Instead, she drew her fingertip along the shell of his ear and he shivered.
“I wish it wasn’t full daylight. I wish we were alone,” he murmured as he continued to hold her hand, slowly rocking the swing back and forth as he kept an eye on the street.
She wished it too, but knew wishes were something entirely apart from reality. He was more than she could handle. Even if she wanted, very badly, to handle him. Out of her league.
“School starts soon,” he said, not commenting further on the previous statement.
“Yep. Hard to believe she’s going to be in first grade.” Like every mother, Elise felt as if the years had just flown by. One day she’d brought home a pink bundle from the hospital, and now that baby was outgrowing her shoes every few months and was going to be a first-grader.
She’d have time alone, more than she’d ever had before, even if it would be filled, more often than not, with work. Maybe even some time to sneak in a man here and there. Have some connection to someone that wasn’t about parenting or work.
Admittedly, part of what attracted her so deeply to Brody was being seen as a woman, as a sexual being, by a man to whom she was attracted right back.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you. One taste and I’m jonesing.” He grinned, and it did all sorts of crazy to her belly. And other parts. God, this was dangerous, and so hot it made her want to throw caution to the wind and invite him inside.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it either.” She shrugged. No point in lying about it.
“So, what are we going to do about that?”
Before she could answer, Rennie looked over and saw them. “Momma! Brody! Come over and see the flower bed.”
Well now, that brought the fantasy in her head to a screeching halt. The man would probably run the other way now. She stood, waving back at Rennie. “On my way.”
“I’ll come as well.” Brody stood and they began to walk toward Mrs. Cardini’s.
“Sorry about that.” She laughed.
“Never apologize for being a connected mom. It’s your job. I knew we weren’t going to go at it on your porch in broad daylight.” He winked.
6
Elise bent and stretched, placing her palms flat on the floor. Stretching felt like meditation sometimes. Her body knew it so well, knew the movements, the positions, the limits of her range, she simply fell into the routine, like breathing. As she stretched, warmed up, she pushed away all the things on her to-do list—the new toe shoes she needed to order, the people she needed to call, the squeaky door on one of the lockers she needed to grease. It all fell away.
She put Goldfrapp’s Black Cherry album on and began to move, letting the music take over as she spotted her first pirouette, and round again. Stepping back, she noted the lack of pull in her calves and noted it gladly.
It wasn’t until she’d moved to fouetté en tournant that she noticed him standing in the doorway, watching.
Smiling and pleasantly surprised, she stopped and turned the music off. “Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here. Is everything all right?” They’d left a lot unsaid the last few times they’d seen each other.
Brody cocked his head at her. “Wow. You’re totally amazing. I’ve never seen anything like those twirly things you were doing just now.”
Pride warmed her. She’d worked hard to get where she’d been before the whole thing with Ken. Most of her life had been spent in ballet class; she never regretted that time and dedication like some others had. She loved dancing and missed it a great deal, but this new stage wasn’t all that bad. The feedback was nice, she had to admit.
“Thank you. That’s called fouetté en tournant. Ballet moves are French so they sound awesome and graceful. Fouetté means ‘whipped,’ by the way.” She laughed. “It’s the whipping motion of the leg that propels the body into the turn.”
“Ah, makes sense then. It sounds—and looks—pretty complicated. Speaking of looking pretty complicated, I looked around when I first got here. When you said you’d danced for the National Ballet Theatre, I hadn’t guessed what that meant. Not really. You weren’t a dancer there, you were the dancer there. I’m incredibly impressed.”
A hated blush heated her cheeks. “Not the dancer. I was a principal dancer. There were two other female principals when I was with the NBT. I worked my way up over the years.”
“Do you miss it?”
She paused. “Sometimes more than I want to. Brody, not that I’m unhappy to see you. I mean, look at yourself. Any woman with eyes would be happy to look up and get a load of Brody Brown standing in her doorway. But, why are you here?”
